


Surreptitious Fabric

by oper_1895



Series: Sex is just a word (Asexual!Neal) [6]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Asexual Character, Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Roleplay, Uniforms, kinky not-porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-17
Updated: 2010-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-10 14:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oper_1895/pseuds/oper_1895
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter calls it classic. Neal calls it bad at best, yet there's something about <em>that suit</em> that Neal can't ignore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surreptitious Fabric

**Author's Note:**

> Beta thanks goes to jumpuphigh and bientot!

Some days Neal wondered if this was what it was like for the rest of the world, with this constant distraction. It was odd, how something so small could hijack your thoughts, create a _something _that moved from eye to hindbrain without consulting any rational thought in between. It had been different with Kate, different with everyone else. The thought of her could distract him, and he was willing to admit to a certain lack of logical consideration in his actions regarding her, but there was never this… physicality to it.

But all Peter had to do was show up in that damned ugly suit of his and Neal's focus was done for the day.

It didn't matter what he did with it: fully suited up complete with horrid tie, the badge displayed on his belt, coat off and shirt sleeves rolled up, the shoulder holster on display. No matter how he wore it, he looked completely and carelessly in control. This was the man who could keep up with him when he left everyone else behind in the dust. This was the man who could control him.

Most of the time, when they were at home, this man was easy to forget about. There he was just Peter, who did the dishes, fixed sinks, and cleaned gutters. Peter who had a strange fascination with sports, and who was a careful and caring partner. But then, inevitably, Peter pulled out _that suit _and he became Agent Burke again. Neal couldn't get that out of his head.

And Agent Burke was coming closer to him. Neal shook off his distraction. "Come on." Peter handed Neal his coat. "It's getting late, and you've been staring at nothing for the past 20 minutes. We're not doing anything useful here."

"I wouldn't say I was staring at nothing." Neal protested, but he accepted his coat and followed Peter as he strode out of the office.

\--

Neal hesitated just inside the front entrance of the Burkes' house, but if he was going to keep being so distracted by the damned suit, he might as well have good reason for that distraction.

He reached out to stop Peter as he slipped out of his jacket. "Before you get changed, is there time for something?"

Peter paused in his movements, looking puzzled, but he shrugged back into the jacket. "You hate this suit."

"I think it's hideous" Neal agreed, "But-" (_it's power, it's control, it's steady consistency and stunning unexpected intelligence_) "-it's _the _suit."

He could see the moment Peter got it. He got that little half smile and dropped a hand to the back of Neal's neck. "Ah. There's time. What do you want?"

"Just… this." Neal's hands fluttered towards the suit, the badge, the authority. "Just you and the suit. Please."

Peter nodded thoughtfully and Neal had a moment to feel the thrill of anticipation before he was spun into the wall and pinned in place. Peter kicked his feel apart, and had Neal's hands cuffed before Neal could catch his balance to resist. "Neal Caffrey. You're under arrest."

Neal moaned.

Peter roughly searched Neal, stripped his jacket off his shoulders, letting it dangle from his cuffed hands. His shirt soon followed. Neal shivered when Peter leaned in close. He could feel the slightly rough wool-polyester of Peter's suit against his back, contrasting with the softer wool of his own coat, tangling his hands.

Neal had a few moments to enjoy that before Peter pulled Neal away from the wall, and shoved him into a dining room chair. Neal hit the chair off balance, and was distracted for a moment as he attempted to gather himself into an appropriately casual slouch. By the time he looked up Peter was looming slightly with his hands on his hips, which spread his jacket enough that the badge and holster were visible. Neal's mouth went dry. "You are going to answer my questions, and we'll start with the one that's going to determine how the rest of this evening goes: What are you doing in my house?"


End file.
